The Ancient
by fakeasain56
Summary: She came to this ancient training ground expecting deadliness. She got a song instead.


Natasha Romanoff breathed in deep, balancing carefully on the top of the rounded platform. It wobbled slightly beneath her, and she softly cursed- no matter what stance she took, she couldn't get the platform to stay still.

Gracefully she slipped off from the platform, and frowned at it.

It was just a round platform, curved like the top of a telescope, set slightly off the ground. Not high enough for anyone to crawl under- not even a child could slip underneath. The platform was offset by high, towering mountains, as a cool breeze drifted in from the north.

The only sound that could be heard were bird chirps. Her cellphone lay within easy reaching distance if she was needed for a mission, but it was unlikely. Fighting with the Avengers meant that her face was too public to be a spy anymore, and the others had promised to pick up any slack in the fights while she was gone.

There had been a curious look from Bruce when she mentioned her plans to do a little extra training, but Clint had simply grinned. He then passed over one of those cheap books that was a guilty pleasure they shared, about how a certain martial art that Natasha employed in her fighting wasn't actually developed by any known man.

Instead, the book claimed, it had been copied off of a mysterious figure wreathed in mist as it went through a series of movements. It had then named this site where she was currently standing as the site where the birth of a martial art had been born.

She didn't believe that legend- but this place was a perfect training ground for the martial art. For someone taller than her, certainly, but it was clear and surprisingly well-maintained for a place thought to be abandoned. There were no tricky rocks threatening to break her ankles if she stepped wrong, nor were there any trees growing where they weren't specifically placed.

If she didn't know better, hadn't hiked up a trail that would've left eighty percent of normal people dead, Natasha would say that something was taking care of this ancient training ground.

She snorted at the unlikely event, and circled the platform, the current ill. The training course was clearly set out- the easier stuff was to the left, and it got progressively harder the further up and left it went, until it was right over a steep cliff.

Natasha was stuck on the wobbling platform. No matter how she attempted to adjust her weight and stance to keep the platform still, it didn't work. It kept on wobbling from side to side, in a pattern that she was having trouble picking up.

Frustrated, the woman stared at the wobbly platform as it bobbed in its position. Bare feet tapped against the ground thoughtfully, as she regarded this problem.

Wind blew in time to the bobbing, and the woman's eyes went wide as she heard a very, very faint chime. She walked up for a closer look, carefully sliding fingers into the gap.

Cool metal still silently reverberated beneath her fingers. Quickly she pulled back, and climbed on top of the platform to try again.

Instead of going against the wobbles, this time Natasha followed them. Her body flowed like water from side to side, the weight swinging the the platform from side to side. Beneath her, singing out for the world to hear, a bell rang.

"Crikey! I hear ya already! Stop ringing the bell would ya?"

The distinctly Australian accent broke her out of her concentration. Smoothly she jumped off the platform, heading for the knife she always had stored on her body. Dark eyes scanned the empty ground, searching for the voice. "Who's there and how did you get here?"

"Name's Aester. As for how I got here- you ringing that stupid bell is reason enough. I heard it and came up. Now what do you want?"

Was this the caretaker of these grounds? "I came here for training."

A moment of silence. "What."

"This is the training grounds of an ancient martial form, isn't it?" Natasha still didn't see anyone, nor could she sense a single person in the clearing. No killing intent, nothing. "I came here to reconnect to its roots."

"Ancient?" The voice seemed to be perplexed. "I don't know about ancient, but yeah, this is a training ground. I built it myself."

Whoever was speaking wasn't lying. Natasha knew, her training teaching her how to catch inflections of someone who was lying- and this guy wasn't. He had built a training ground from at least three hundred years back.

"Crikey, this is a mess. Anyways, knock it off with the bell, would ya? It's almost Easter and the bell's scaring the eggs." She still couldn't see the owner of the voice, but she nodded nonetheless.

"That's fine. I'm going to be moving on to the next part of the course anyways."

"Oi, oi, oi, hold up a moment here. You do know what the next part entails, right?"

"I'll figure it out."

"Right." The man's voice was flat and disbelieving. "You can't even see me, and you're sure you'll figure it out."

"How do you-"

"I can see your eyes lassie. You look like a cornered rat. Them's nasty things. Never attempt to reason with a cornered rat. They insult your family and then bite hard." He muttered something under his breath no doubt insulting. "Anyways, knock yourself out I suppose."

Natasha didn't believe in fairytales, but she supposed she could believe in an ancient fighter that was apparently Australian.

Who did she think she was kidding?

She straightened briskly from her crouch, stepping out into the open deliberately. "My name is Natasha. Natasha Romanoff." She waited for a sign of recognition- the world over knew about the Avengers now.

The mysterious voice snorted as there was a rustle from the bushes. "Just keep the noise down, would ya? First Jack and now you-"

The bushes stilled, and Natasha asked the air, "Who's Jack?"

There was no answer.

* * *

Night slowly fell, with Natasha left frustrated at the beginning of the course. The course mocked her, and she sighed as she withdrew further up the mountain to her small campground. She still had a view of the course ground, but also a view of the path up to the small, secluded spot.

No one could possibly sneak up on her.

Dissatisfied, she rolled up in her blanket, and fell into a light sleep. Tomorrow was her last day on the mountain, before she started the trek back. The trek itself would be perfect training material, but still she wanted to finish the training course.

Natasha awoke with a start in the early morning to arguing carried on the breeze. Carefully she peered into the misty morning, to find two mist-wreathed forms standing on the training ground. It was hard to pick out details, but at least one of them was a teen, and the other a tall, tall person.

"C'mon Bunny! I wanna see this martial art of yours."

"I'm busy Jack-"

"Suuuuure, so busy that you could take time off and show me this place." The smaller figure stepped closer to the training ground. "I want to see this in action, like you described to me."

The bigger one sighed, and held something out, vaguely eggshaped. "Here, hold this and don't let it get away. The sun ought to be shining over the hills in a minute- and it's almost spring too. I guess now's the perfect time to do it."

"Oh, is this some kind of ritual or something?" The teen teased, already taking a few steps back- and into the air? She had to be dreaming this- which she was really beginning to lean towards as a six-foot tall rabbit stepped out of the mist onto the first platform.

One long footpaw tapped the platform, a hollow sound picking up and beginning to echo along the mountains. He jumped and flipped onto the next platform, one long leg sweeping out to swirl air around him like he was some kind of miniature cyclone. Crystals, once still, reverberated with the noise, joining with the echoing thuds.

Natasha could hear it now, an ancient tune that no human had ever written being played out through the ancient course built thousands of years ago. Every movement was made with a mind of economical beauty- deadly yet purposeful at the same time.

Each part added to the tune, joyfully celebrating something- spring probably from his earlier words.

The bell was saved for last, the low, deep ringing echoing through the mountains just as the sun peeked over the mountains edge, bathing the structure in light.

Natasha realized it looked a lot like an egg.

-end-


End file.
